


The Undertaker

by friendofours



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Death, M/M, Murder Mystery, Murderers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29585241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendofours/pseuds/friendofours
Summary: CURRENTLY PAUSED || Being a mortician can be an utter drag sometimes. That is, until it's not.Louis' apprenticehip as a funeral director started out far from fun and didn't get any funner for two years. But one day, with the arrival of an eccentric young man named Harry who wants a funeral for his pet fish, Louis' world turns upside down. One strange coinidence turns into a full-blown mystery, as the bloodstains and broken glass reveal that the fish isn't the only one dead, and this might not have just been an accident.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Undertaker

It was a dreary, dull, and freftully cold day. Louis was sat near the back of the train, his head pressed against the frost-coated window, snoring softly. 

Ever since starting his apprenticeship in his mother’s funeral directory when he was eighteen - almost two years ago - Louis had been tired. Just tired, that was really all there was to it. Not sad, not scared, even. Everyday he came home exhausted, and he didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like the work was physically laborious; setting out tissue boxes and arranging urns really doesn’t take much out of you. Yet, somehow, the job fatigued him. 

Some days were worse than others. There were times when people came who were sadder than usual. The days when children’s bodies had to be taken care of, or those of the young but diseased. The days when the families stayed longer and wept harder than usual. On those bad days, Louis found himself crashing into bed as soon as he got home, and not waking until the morning. On the especially bad days he might only make it to the couch. 

It was almost as if seeing so much death and pain was draining his own life, and the thought of that scared him, to say the least. But he dared not tell anyone, not a soul (living or dead). He just knew that it wasn’t normal, and therefore he had to do everything in his power to hide it. But that was getting more and more difficult to do, it seemed. 

“Evening sir, may I have a look at that paper you’ve got?” 

Louis’ head shot up from the window at the sound of a soft, low voice. “What?” he croaked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a damp hand. He looked up wearily and saw a young man in a thick woolen coat, sitting on the edge of the seat across from him and looking hopefully up at him with startling green eyes. 

“Oh, sorry for waking you,” The young man said hurriedly. “I didn’t-”

“S’fine,” Louis stifled a yawn and tossed his copy of the day’s paper in the stranger’s hands. “Enjoy,” he said, before curled up against the window pane once more. 

“Are you feeling alright?” The young man asked after a moment.

Louis didn’t open his eyes. “Yeah yeah, of course, I’m just trying to take a bloody nap is all.” he snapped. When the only response he received was silence he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt for being so prickly, but the feeling subsided as he slipped back into the darkness.

What felt like mere seconds later, he was jolted awake as the train came to a halt. He sat up with a groan and forced his eyes open, wiping away a bit of drool with the back of his hand. After shaking his head a few times, he stood stiffly and slung his bag over his shoulder, before following the crowd toward the exit doors. He didn’t even have the energy to react as other patrons bumped and shoved him around, one very rushed man nearly knocking him off his feet. It was until he was leaving the station, shivering against the frigid wind grazing his cheeks and making his thick turtleneck feel like a garbage bag, that he realized he was being followed. 

With a sudden burst of annoyance and frustration, fueled by how bloody tired he was, he whirled around to address the young man who’d bothered him earlier and apparently wasn’t finished. “What the hell do you want?!”

The green-eyed kid flinched like an injured puppy, turning his head away at Louis’ sudden loud tone. “I…” he mumbled, wringing his mittened hands. 

Louis knew he really shouldn’t take his anger out on strangers. He didn’t have any beef with this guy, only with himself. But he was so fed up with everything he couldn’t help it. “Well? Spit it out then!” he barked, shoving the young man’s shoulder. 

“Its’ nothing,” the kid said nervously. “Nevermind, I was just--”

“Oh come on, don’t “nevermind” me, you’re the one who followed me out of the blasted train like some fucking weirdo,” Louis spat. 

“I was just wondering if you could help me!” The young man suddenly cried, his sea-foam eyes glistening with surprised hurt. “But obviously not, so I’l just fuck off then!”

“Alright then!” Louis shouted, holding up his hands. “You do that! I’m not stopping you!”

The kid kept his word. He turned on his heel and ran off. Louis caught a glimpse of him holding up a hand to wipe away what were probably tears, and cursed out loud. 

“Stupid,” He spat at the ground, shoving his hands into his pockets and continuing his walk home. Now he was not only worn-out physically, but emotionally. He felt awful. Disgusted, at his own actions.

“That kid should’ve fought back, little coward,” he murmured to no one in particular, trying to make himself feel better. It didn’t work, so he gave up. 

It was snowing lightly by the time he got home. The sun was long gone and the specks of white illuminated by the orange glow of street lamps zipped in random directions with the force of the wind, which continued to peirce Louis’ face like a whip. But the real blow didn’t hit him until he stepped inside his family’s house. 

“LEWISSSS!” Phoebe’s energetic voice assaulted Louis’ ears as he crossed the threshold into the warm, chaotic entryway. 

Remarkably enough, all of his sisters were downstairs, almost as if they’d been waiting for him - which Louis refused to believe until Felicite came rushing forward, a copy of the day’s paper in her hand and a scared look on her face. “Have you seen this?! Oh God, you didn’t walk home all by yourself did you?”

Louis backed up, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He just wanted to go to bed. “I… yeah, why wouldn’t I? What’s all this fuss about?”

“There’s a murderer!” Daisy announced excitedly. “He’s going to kill us all! We’re doomed!”

“Will you be quiet?” Lottie shouted. 

“Just- Look!” Felicite instructed her brother, waving the paper in his face and pointing to the great big headline on the front. 

“Alright, alright, chill out and let me read,” Louis said with a faint laugh, taking the paper from her and glancing at the headline. 

It read, in large bold letters: “BODY FOUND BENEATH JOAN CROFT LANE BRIDGE, INVESTIGATION UNDERWAY.”

Louis felt his mouth fall open. “No…”  
“Yeah!” Lottie countered, turning on the radio. “Listen to this!” 

“-still haven’t found enough evidence to pin-point which of the suspects may be guilty for the murder but it has been confirmed that the death was in fact caused intentionally and by an outside cause. We advise anyone living in the surrounding area to be careful and to stay indoors as much as possible. Do not, we repeat, do not go outside alone. Officials state-”

She turned it back off her, her shoulders sagging. “At least you’re alive…”

Felicite sighed and took back the paper, tearng apart the pages and scrunching them up to use as fire-starters. “Mum even called about it, she was worried half to death about you,”

“Don’t toss around the word ‘death’!” Phoebe reminded, before swinging off the stairrail and rushing into the livingroom to continue playing with her hotwheels. 

The girls began to disperse now that the initial drama was over, going back up to their rooms or to the kitchen to prepare supper. Louis removed his coat and hat, not quite knowing how to respond to the news that he had walked right past the sight of a murder without noticing. Or that he had purchased a paper without noticing the headline. But then again, it was hard to notice anything when your brain was barely functioning to begin with. 

“I’m… going to go to bed,” he said cautiously to Felicite, who was still ripping up the newspaper rather violently. 

“Do you want me to bring some dinner for you?” She asked without looking up.

“No, that’s okay,” Louis said, absent-mindedly fixing his fringe. “And um… sorry, for scaring you. I didn’t know...”

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Now you go rest up, working lad,” she said, before storming out of the entryway and into the kitchen.


End file.
